


Smoke and Leather

by Cowboy_Sneep_Dip



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Seisen no Keifu | Fire Emblem: Genealogy of the Holy War
Genre: Emotionally Resonant Hand-Touching, F/F, Fluff, Friendship, Magic Lessons, Mild Genealogy of the Holy War Spoilers, Nagamas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-09-28 17:13:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17187053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cowboy_Sneep_Dip/pseuds/Cowboy_Sneep_Dip
Summary: Lana is determined to prove her worth to Seliph's Liberation Army somehow, whether through her healing magic or some other means. When another girl joins their company, and another with magical affinity, Lana finds herself with a new opportunity - and a new friend.





	Smoke and Leather

**Author's Note:**

> Happy holidays! Here's my Nagamas piece. The prompt was "Lana/Julia - Studying Magic" for tumblr user @Sasielle! Hope you enjoy!

“Julia? What are you doing out here?”

Julia looked up from the wooden staff that rested on her knees at her visitor. In the flickering light of a metal lantern, she spied a familiar face and smiled. “Hello, Lana.” She rolls the staff in her hands, letting her fingers trace the delicately carved whorls in the wood. “I wanted to thank you again for this staff. It’s already proven quite useful.”

Lana lets a soft smile cross her lips. “I’m glad. But Julia, is it not late? You should be resting - we march for Isaach tomorrow.”

Julia shifts across the bench she rests on and leans her staff against it. “Should you not be sleeping as well?”

“I…couldn’t sleep,” Lana admits, sheepishly rubbing the back of her head.

“Me neither.” Julia pats the bench next to her. “Would you like to sit?”

Lana takes her offer and sets her lamp down with a dull clank into the dirt. A warm breeze blows through the quiet streets, rustling the overhead leaves and flickering the lamp’s flame. Their small cocoon of orange light wavers in the darkness then steadies.

Sophara was warm and dry - nestled between the mountains of central Isaach but far from the coast, it was often prone to nights like this. A cloudless, dark sky and a stale breeze that filtered through the narrow streets of densely-clustered buildings and groves of trees. Lana doesn’t like it in Sophara. It’s too quiet, too empty. The streets are all but vacant even during the day, the ironclad rule of its former leader harsh enough to deter wanderers. Even now, after its liberation, the people seemed hesitant to leave their homes. Privately, she wondered if it was because of disbelief - if the people of Isaach refused to believe that they were free, even if just for now. Perhaps they expected the hammer to drop.

Lana did too.

She looks at the sky and sighs. “You must miss Lewyn, don’t you?”

Julia shrugs and leans back against the bench. “That’s the second time you’ve asked me about him.”

“Well, he is a prince. Not often you have royalty looking after you.” Lana smiles sheepishly again. Perhaps she was not one to speak, given the man to whom her allegiance in battle lay.  “His Highness was quite concerned, and after hearing your story from Lord Seliph, I…”

“So Sir Seliph did speak to you,” Julia picks her staff up again.

“W-Well, he-”

Julia stands and braces her feet in the dirt. She leans back and wraps her hands tightly around her staff. The breeze seems to bend around her, ruffling her white robes and her soft lavender hair. An aura seemed to extend from her, subsuming the orange lamplight and casting a soothing greenish glow over the bench. Julia twists the staff and the light deepens.

Lana can feel the soreness of her muscles and the tiredness of the day’s work melt from her body. It’s a feeling she knows well - she had some training in the healing arts, after all.

The glow and the warm, rippling breeze dies. Julia takes a breath. “Sir Seliph brought me a tome, earlier. I do not want him to think I am incapable of protecting myself.”

“O-of course!” Lana rests her hands in her lap. “I did not mean to imply that…” Lana watches Julia with curiosity. “Is that what you were doing out here? Practicing magic?”

Julia sits again and nods. “I cannot cast Aura without concern, but I am free to practice healing.”

“It’s amazing!” Lana stares. “I…I can’t use a Relive staff, not like that.” Her gaze droops towards the staff in Julia’s hands. “All I have is my Live staff.” Her own, back in her quarters, is an old thing - the wood is dented and warped and it’s in dire need of repairs, but she hadn’t wanted to bother Sir Seliph for the money, things being the way they were.

“Any help is welcome, though,” Julia smiles at her. “It feels like I’ve spent so long in the care of others…it’s good to be able to help out, even in small ways.”

Lana nods, her own thoughts similar. She purses her lips. “Julia…”

“Hm?” Julia tilts her head to the side.

“Could you teach me?”

“Teach you…to heal?”

“To cast magic the way you do,” Lana sits up, trying to stop her excitement from creeping into her voice. They had no other magic-users in their troupe, certainly not any capable of casting powerful magic like Aura. And her healing was serviceable when they were but a small militia, but it seemed that with every passing day their numbers grew. “To heal, and to defend.” She looks up. “Sir Seliph once told me that it was too dangerous for my on the battlefield.” Her hand unconsciously drifts to Julia’s staff, her grip almost instinctive. “He said I was too easy a target. But I don’t want to just be a fragile child to be protected. I cannot heal if I am not in battle.” She realizes where her hand has fallen and pulls back, blushing. “I-I’m sorry, I-”

“I understand,” Julia smiles. She offers the staff. “Would you like to try?”

Lana picks up the staff and stands, holding it forward. She tries to mimic Julia’s pose, planting her feet in the dirt. The warm breeze bends around her. It’s a strange feeling - familiar to her own magic, but stronger, like seeing a creature beneath the waves of the sea, something at once recognizable and frightening. The magic seems to seep from her veins, energy pouring into the ornate wooden staff as it bathes the two of them in a soft green light. Julia stands and positions herself behind Lana, taking one of her hands and re-positioning it along the staff’s length.

“Hold it straighter,” she says softly. “The magic is like water in a hose, and cricks in your pose can stifle it.”

Lana nods and stands up straighter, trying to follow Julia’s guidance. She rolls her shoulders back and tightens her grip.

The magic seems to grow stronger still, a steadier flow that encircles them in that soothing, warm light. And then, like the lamp beneath the bench, the magic flickers. And then it dies.

It’s like a breath driven from Lana’s lungs, and she almost stumbles backwards into Julia’s arms.

“I’m s-sorry,” she says, brushing her ruffled hair and stumbling backwards. “I am so used to weaker magic.”

“You did quite well,” Julia says, holding a hand out. There’s a pink line drawn across her palm, but it seems faint, nearly invisible. “I had cut myself while carrying swords this afternoon.” She takes Lana’s hand and presses it into hers. “See? Almost entirely mended.”

Lana stares at their hands, twined together, her finger pressed into Julia’s palm. Her skin feels rough, not the soft hand she would have expected of someone in the care of King Lewyn. Beneath the folds of her white sleeves she can see what looks like more faint scars.

Julia pulls back and straightens her sleeves. She takes the staff from Lana’s hand and rests it against the bench. “Would you like to try using a tome?”

“But you said-”

Julia gestures to the empty street. “There is no one here to complain about a few stray bolts.” She smiles playfully. “Besides, we have an expert healer in case something goes awry, no?”

Lana opens her mouth to protest but before she can, Julia reaches into the folds of her robe and produces a tome. It must have been the gift from Sir Seliph - there could be nother other explanation for such an elegant piece of magic. The tome is bound in brown leather edged with elegant gold, and the curling script on the spine is a language Lana doesn’t recognize. She stares at it almost fearfully.

“It is Light Magic,” Julia explains, opening the book. “I confess I do not know your affinity, but it is a powerful spell in the rights hands. Would you like to see a demonstration?”

Lana nods and instinctively picks the staff up and clutches it to her chest.

Julia holds the book out, open, and lifts her other arm. Again, that glow of magic seems to expand out from her. The pages ripple and her robes flutter in the breeze, but there’s a different energy to this. Where the light of the staff felt warm and soothing, this energy feels cold and menacing. The green light is rippled with twisting shadows as it expands from the pages of the book. And then Julia twitches her raised hand and a column of light erupts from the street before them. The light twists and bends, crackling with energy as it burns into the dirt. It seems to almost spin, a dazzling display of light and energy wreathed in cold wind. And then, as soon as it had begun, it was over. The pages settle back into the book, Julia’s robes drape again over her shoulders limply, and the only evidence that a spell had been cast at all is the circle of charred dirt and wispy smoke from the point where her spell had been cast.

Lana stares in awe.

She had not seen anyone cast magic so close up before, and it filled her with wonder and fear. Julia shuts the book and smiles.

“Aura is a very difficult tome to use,” she admits. “I do not know if you have the skill to wield it, but if nothing else I can show you how I cast. Would that be agreeable?”

Lana nods.

“I learned…” Julia pauses, something on the tip of her tongue. She furrows her brow. “Lewyn must have taught me how to use this tome.” She nods, anything but certain. “It must have been he.” She stares at the book. Perhaps that is what Seliph and Lewyn had been talking about, back in Ganeishire. It must have been that, for how else would Seliph have the tome?

Julia rests one hand along the spine, tracing the details of wrought gold lettering. She can feel something at the edge of her thoughts, something just out of reach. But it is late, and she is tired, and she can do nothing but wonder yet again at the shadows that seem to cloud her thoughts. She looks up and smiles.

“It’s like this,” she opens the book again. “The tome is a channel for your magic, not the source of the magic itself. This book is useless in the hands of, say,” she pauses playfully. “Sir Seliph.” She and Lana chuckle softly before she continues. “But I can cast with it. You stand in the required pose…just like healing.” She stands in a mock casting pose, though the book remains shut in her hand. “And, just like healing, you focus on a target, and let the magic flow through you.” She lowers her arm and holds the book out to Lana. “Would you like to see?”

The book is heavier in her hands than Lana would have predicted. It’s a thick tome and it smells like old boot polish and soot. For some reason she had thought it would smell more pleasant - Light Magic called to mind thoughts of the sun glinting off of shining armor, and the warm, soothing glow of candlelight. But, as with the other tomes, Light Magic is a weapon, and it feels like such in her hands. She turns the pages slowly. It’s that same script she cannot identify.

There’s a word in the inside cover, perhaps a name, though it seems to have been scratched out. She runs a finger over the damaged leather, trying to made out the letters, but she can only discern a handful. A “ _ D _ ” is about all she can make out clearly. She shuts the book and hands it back to Julia, thankful to be rid of its weight.

“If we find a tome better suited to you, perhaps I could teach you further,” Julia smiles softly.

“I couldn’t-” Lana holds her hands up. “I wouldn’t, I mean, I don’t want to inconvenience you.”

“Nonsense,” Julia smiles, picking up her staff and slipping the tome into her robes. “I enjoy spending time with you, Lana.”

“I…I mean, as do I, Julia.” Lana laughs shyly. “I felt so bad for you, seeing you all alone after Sir Lewyn left. I would have felt terrible if something had happened to you.” The two of them walk slowly through the darkened nighttime streets.

“It’s nice to have a girl my age to spend time with,” Lana says, trying to break the silence between them. Julia was kind, but she had an aura that Lana couldn’t quite pin down - she said what she wanted, and seldom more. “Not that I don’t enjoy spending time with Sir Seliph, but I could do with less time with my brother.” She laughs and looks at Julia.

Julia is quiet, her eyes downcast as they walk through the streets together.

“Julia? Are you alright?”

“Hm? I’m sorry,” Julia offers a weak, strained smile. “I just have a lot on my mind.”

“Well, don’t let it keep you up too late,” Lana playfully bats her arm. “Or you’ll be paying for it when we march.” Her open hand rests against Julia’s shoulder and she lets it drop lower and curl around Julia’s free hand.

Julia squeezes lightly in return. The word ‘march’ had brought back what they had both been trying to forget - how close they were to battle again, to the days of open fields and dark forests and blood and steel. Their brief respite in Sophara was good - they needed the rest and resupply, but the war loomed ahead of them all.

Lana couldn’t imagine what it was like for Julia, who seemed thrust into this by forces beyond her control. At least she had signed up for it. She had insisted that Sir Seliph let her fight. But Julia, for all her power, seemed so helpless, a white specter in the pale moonlight, buffeted by the winds around her. Lana shivers and Julia gently tugs her closer as they walk.

“Thank you,” Julia says softly.

“Hm? For what?”

“For speaking to me after Ganeishire.” Julia purses her lips. “Seeing a friendly face was…comforting.” She smiles, and for the first time since their meeting on the bench, Lana gets the feeling that it’s a real smile. “What did you say to me?”

“Let’s stick together,” Lana squeezes her hand. “You can come to me for anything, okay?”

“Thank you, Lana.” 

  
  



End file.
